Checkmate
by ournoisyhearts
Summary: Nate Gray has been used for his fame one too many times. Mitchie Torres is your average high school girl. What happens when she doesn't turn out to be who he thought she was? Nitchie.
1. Prologue

**A/N: PROLOGUE TIME! For my new Nitchie fic, "Checkmate." You'll understand the title later on, don't worry! I want at least five reviews for chapter one! Thanks. :]**

Prologue

Trust is not a simple concept. It is something you have to earn. When you earn someone's trust, they expect you to be honest with them. Treat them with respect. But sometimes, other factors can ruin that trust, until there's nothing left of it.

That's what happened to me.

Connect 3- the band that every girl loves. Everything about them is perfect to us fans: their music, their style, their looks, so it would make sense that I would just be another crazy girl in the sea of screaming people. But, due to the fact that my dad's an alcoholic and my family is broke, I would become much more than that.

Each one of us has a favorite, right? There's Shane, the lead singer/bad boy of the group, who is every girl's ideal fantasy; there's Jason, the silly, fun loving one who still acts like a kid; and there's Nate, the quiet, serious one. You never hear anything about Nate or Jason in the tabloids, it's always Shane, Shane, Shane, every minute of every day. Which is why, my dad decided, that my target would be Nate.

I'm going to tell you right now, none of this was my idea. In the few minutes of the day that my dad's system was not intoxicated, he randomly decided that I would get Nate to fall in love with me, steal his family's money, and make my dad rich all within one month.

Impossible?

Pretty much.

My dad's plan was idiotic and pointless, and I knew it would never work. I mean, first, I had to figure out a way to actually MEET Connect 3, and that was going to be hard enough! But luckily, the first part came easy. Camp Rock was the perfect place for my plan to begin.

I'm Mitchie Torres, and my story starts now.


	2. Chapter 1: Mitchie

**Checkmate**

Chapter One

"Mitchie! Get your lazy ass out of bed, you're going to be late for work."

I sighed and threw my pillow over my face, groaning before I turned to look at the clock. It was four in the morning! I buried my face into my blankets and let out a deafening scream.

"MITCHIE! What don't you understand about the words 'you're going to be late?'" My dad shouted from the kitchen. _Why don't you get yourself a fucking job?! _ I wanted to scream. My dad was so money-hungry, it was terrifying. He would do anything and everything to have those crisp dollar bills wadded up in his hand. The only problem was he refused to work. He made me do it for him.

I finally climbed out of bed and tossed on the first pair of jeans I could find, then rummaged through my drawers to pull out an old T-shirt that had "BMX Tournament 2001" printed across the front. I didn't have much selection with my clothing. It was either old jeans, musty shirts, or the occasional blouse I could find at the Salvation Army if I had any leftover money after paying my dad. I pulled on my sneakers and grabbed my apron and nametag before running a brush through my hair quickly. I scrubbed at my teeth for a few seconds, spit into the sink, and dashed out of our apartment. My footsteps echoed down the hallway as I burst out the back door of our building and hopped on my bike.

The Forester is probably one of the oldest buildings in Los Angeles. My dad still lives in the same apartment he has since he was five years old. There are mildew stains all over the walls , the wallpaper is peeling, and our neighbors consist of old ladies and widowed husbands. Outside, the walls are gray and dirty, with bird poop cascading down the sides and broken window shutters hanging off here and there. At first glance, you might even think it was a haunted house from a movie. But the sad thing is, it's not.

I pedaled as hard as I could as cars whizzed past me once in awhile. It was still dark outside, but I managed to maneuver my way through the streets until I reached my destination: The Harper Coffeehouse.

Harper's is definitely my worst nightmare. It's one of the places where all the weird, artsy people go to read their poetry at open mic nights once a week. Yeah- it's THAT kind of coffee house.

Surprisingly, Harper's is in a part of the neighborhood where there are no other places to eat, so we get a lot of business. At least enough to bring home my chunk of the rent each week. I toss my apron over my head and pin my nametag on just as the first customer of the morning wanders into the store.

"Mitchie," he greets, sidling up to the counter. I plaster the most real grin on my face as I can muster and nod.

"What can I get you, Carl?" I ask politely. He pretends to scan the menu for a long moment, trying to make me mad.

"What would you suggest?" He smirks, knowing he's getting on my nerves. I raise an eyebrow.

"Hm, how about an I-hate-serving-assholes-like-you latte?" I hiss. He frowns, obviously angry.

"I can get you fired, bitch," he whispers, knitting his eyebrows together. I shrug.

"So? I'll just find another job."

He stands there for a second, pondering what to do. Finally, he sighs and storms out of the shop.

_Great, only three and a half more hours to go._

oOo

By the time my shift is finally finished, I have just enough time to bike over to school. Luckily, spring break is coming up next week, so I'll be able to go home and sleep after work. I pedal over to school and lock my bike up by the front doors just as the bell rings. I grab my things out of locker and run down the hall to class and slip in just as my teacher, Mr. Jenkins, walks in.

"As some of you may know, we are getting a new student today," he says, sitting down at his desk. Almost immediately the kids around me begin to chatter in hushed voice. I must've missed the memo, because obviously everyone else knows about this kid except for me.

"Quiet down!" Mr. Jenkins shrieks, his voice wailing. The entire class turns silent and he smiles in satisfaction. "As I was saying, our new student will be arriving later today. I want you all to be very nice, and not him treat him like he's-"

"Famous?"

All of us turn to the corner of the room, where Tess Tyler is sitting. Tess is one of those bubbly blondes, on the cheerleading squad kind of girl. Head of the school, pretty much. All of the guys love her, and all of the girls bow down to her. I guess it really is possible to have that kind of power.

"Yes, Ms. Tyler. I want you all to treat Mr. Gray like a normal human being." Mr. Jenkins explains slowly. When he says "Mr. Gray" the entire class bursts out into rounds of shrieks and laughter. I close my eyes and try to think of someone with the last name Gray. There's Matt Gray, the skateboarder….or Lucas Gray, the actor…but none of them are my age. Who could it be?

"I can't believe Nate's coming to our school!" Tess squeals from behind me. All of her friends nod and reply in agreement. Wait, what? Nate Gray? From Connect 3? At our SCHOOL?

My stomach starts twisting and I am beginning to feel nauseous. I raise my hand. "Mr. Jenkins?" May I-

But that's when the classroom door opens.

oOo

**A/N: There you go, chapter one of "Checkmate." I know it's sorta boring, but it will get better. Next chapter is when things start getting interesting! So review!**


	3. Chapter 2: Nate

**Checkmate**

Chapter Two

_Nate_

Never in my life have I seen the amount of excitement that amounted from my classmates when I stepped into the room. It was as if they were seeing God, or something. I was like a freaking epiphany for them. Sighing, I strode over to the teacher, Mr. Jenkins. His hair was greasy, and his brow was covered in sweat. _Gross,_ I think, handing him my tardy slip.

"Sorry I'm late," I say. At the sound of my voice, practically all the girls in the room swoon. Except for one, I notice, who's sitting in the back looking annoyed. Her brown hair falls in waves over her shoulders and her eyes are thick and chocolaty. I smirk and take the empty seat behind her quickly.

"Welcome, Mr. Gray," the teacher stutters as I get comfortable in my chair. It was the record label's idea to send me to public school. _Give you a taste of real life,_ is what they told me. Real life? Pfft. Having to sit around a stuffy classroom with a bunch of losers was not my idea of real life.

As _Mr. Jenkins _starts to ramble about some huge Chinese disaster in the thirteenth century, I lean forward and try to catch a glimpse of what annoyed girl is writing. From my view, it looks like poems or lyrics, but I can't quite tell for sure.

"Whatcha writing?" I whisper. I hear her mumble something under her breath, but she doesn't turn around. Of course, the only girl in school who doesn't give a crap about me. Figures.

"I asked you a question," I smirk and reach over, yanking the book out of her hands. She spins around, her face red with anger and her eyes piercing through my skin.

"Just because you're some fucked up rockstar doesn't mean you can just waltz in here and act like you own the place," she hisses, her face reddening even more as she reaches for the book. Luckily, I'm a good four inches taller than her, so I lean back and hold the book out of her reach. She sighs in defeat and slumps back in her chair still staring straight at me.

"Oh, so _I'm _the fucked up one," I whisper back, giving her a smug smile as I start to read from the book. "_Until You're Mine? _What kind of crazy song title is that?"

"Ugh." She huffs and grabs the book back as I bring my hand down onto my desk. I watch as she turns back around and furiously writes something down in her notebook. I lean forward again and attempt to read her messy print.

_Note to self: _It says at the top of the page, _do NOT talk to Nate Gray ever again._

I chuckle and lean back in my seat, satisfied. Girls are so bitchy sometimes.

oOo

By the time lunch rolls around, I've already found four different phone numbers stuffed in my locker AND a note telling me to meet someone beside the bleachers afterschool. I chuck all the papers into the recycling bin and stroll into the cafeteria confidently. As my footsteps echo off the white walls, the entire room falls silent at my presence. I want to laugh out loud at everyone's reactions- I mean, come on, I'm the same as them- but I don't. Instead, I slowly step into the lunchline, put a burger and a soda on my tray, and scan the room for a place to sit. A couple of girls stare at me longingly, almost begging me with their eyes to come sit with them. Instead, I pick up my tray and walk over to (you guessed it) annoyed girl's table. She has her back to me, and is sitting with two other guys I don't recognize. I plop my food down next to her and take a seat.

"Well hey there, annoyed girl. You still look pretty annoyed." I smirk and bite into my burger. She turns and narrows her eyes at me.

"What," she hisses quietly, "is your fucking problem?" By now, the entire cafeteria is still staring at me, and all of them obviously heard her remark. I swallow my food and shrug innocently.

"I don't believe I have a problem, actually," I reply evenly before turning to her friends. "I'm Nate."

They both stare at me, completely shocked, before one of them with blonde hair and muggy green eyes straightens up. "I'm Lenny, and this is Jeremiah."

Jeremiah is still looking straight at me, so I wave my hand in front of his face. "Hello? Anyone there?"

His face flushes a deep shade of red and he looks down. "Sorry. It's just, you're famous, and-"

I clap a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about it. At least you didn't pass out."

This comment makes Jeremiah blush even more, and I stifle a laugh before taking another bite of my burger. I can still feel Mitchie's gaze burning straight through me, but I ignore it and focus on chewing my food. _Chomp, chomp, chomp…_

"Are you stalking me, or something?" She blurts. I shrug.

"No, but if you want, I can," I smirk, "Having the paparazzi following you around is good practice."

Mitchie's face scrunches up angrily and she bolts up out of her chair. Before I have the slightest idea what's happening, she tosses her entire try of pasta at me. I shut my eyes as the sauce splatters across my face and the noodles flip and flop as they land all over me.

"That will teach you not to mess with me," she screeches. "Jer, Lenny, let's go."

The boys jump up out of their seats and obediently follow Mitchie out of the cafeteria. I absentmindedly pick a noodle off of my lap as I watch her go, brown hair swinging behind her. So she wanted a challenge?

I like challenges.

oOo

**A/N: Sorry, I had to leave it there! And about the pasta…I couldn't resist xD Just too funny! And if you're wondering what the heck Jeremiah & Lenny have to do with anything, don't worry. They'll play a major part eventually. REVIEW!**


	4. Chapter 3: Mitchie

**Checkmate**

Chapter Three

_Mitchie_

I can't believe him. What an ass. He thinks he can just come into school and tell us all what to do because he's a rockstar? Well, I'm not going to listen to him. No way. Jerks like him are the reason I don't have boyfriends. They're not worth all the drama. Sighing, I shoo Jeremiah and Lenny away and go into the girl's bathroom, locking myself into a stall. I bet the entire school thinks I'm a bitch just because I dumped my lunch on Nate Gray. Great, because I'm not enough of a loser already. After leaning against the side of the stall for a few minutes, I take a deep breath and step out, only to be met face to face by the biggest bitch in school: Tess Tyler.

"Look it is. Bitchie Torres," She cackles, throwing her head back. I just glare at her before stepping the side and trying to get around, but she doesn't let me. She puts her hand out against my shoulder and pushes me back.

"I can't believe you dumped your lunch all over Nate. That's so rude. You need to learn some respect, Bitchie," She smirks, finally stepping aside so I can pass. I burst out of the bathroom and look around the empty hallway before making dash for it. I whiz past lockers and bulletin boards, and I can just see the front doors of school as I run past the final hallway blocking it. I can barely reach the handle before I slam into someone, causing both of us to stumble over and fall to the ground. My head is pounding from the impact and I reach up, pressing my palm to the spot that hurts and opening my eyes. The room is spinning a bit, but not enough to rearrange the ever-so-perfect features of Nate Gray.

"Geez, annoyed girl. Watch where you're going," He moans, blinking a few times. My mouth drops open in shock. Of course, I had to run into _him._ I shake my head and stand up, reaching out a hand.

"Want help?" I ask quietly. He grabs my hand and I pull him up, still rubbing my head with the opposite hand. He chuckles slightly.

"Maybe we should get you some ice." He offers. I nod half-heartedly and the two of us limp towards the office, me rubbing my head and him holding his elbow. We finally reach the door and Nate taps on the glass carefully. The secretary turns around and upon seeing the two of us, immediately runs into the back and emerges a few minutes later with two ice packs. Nate takes them and smiles at her politely before we go and sit down in the stiff chairs across from the door.

"Thanks," I say as he presses the ice pack to the side of my head. He removes his hand and I hold the cool object to my bruise as he presses his own to his arm. I want to say something to get rid of the awkwardness, but don't know what, so I just mumble, "Sorry."

He shrugs and winces when he hits a certain spot on his arm with the ice pack. "Don't worry about it. I guess I deserved it. And the pasta, too."

I giggle for a second but then instantly stop. What am I _doing??_ Talking and giggling with NATE GRAY? In my thought, I drop my ice pack and bend down to pick it up just as Nate does as well. We smack heads once again and both of us yelp in pain.

"Okay, either you're freakishly magnetic or we're both complete idiots," Nate exclaims, rubbing the top of his head. I narrow my eyes at him.

"I am not magnetic, nor an idiot. I blame you," I decide, huffing and folding my arms over his chest. He smirks, amused out of my anger.

"Why are you always so stubborn?" He chuckles, earning another glare from me. "Maybe I should change your nickname to Miss Stubborn instead of annoyed girl."

I stare out the front door of the school as I reply, "Actually, it's Mitchie." Then I turn around and look straight at him. "And if you don't want any more bruises, I suggest you stay away from me."

With that, I stand up, ignoring my pouding head, and stroll around the corner and down the hallway. At the last second, I turn around to check if he's watching me. His eyes are fixated straight at me, and guess what? He's smiling, the asshole is smiling. I toss him a smug smile as well, get a loud cackle in reply, and mumble a few bad words under my breath before walking to class.

_Jerk._

oOo

Jeremiah and Lenny are waiting for me when I reach my final class of the day. The take one glance at the icepack in my hand and Jer shoots me a sympathetic look as I sit down beside him.

"What the hell happened to you?" He asks as the teacher walks in. I groan.

"Please, remind me not to ever _look, _or even _talk _to Nate Gray AGAIN," I mutter angrily. Lenny stifles a laugh.

"Wow. You guys just can't stay away from each other, can you?" He says in amusement. I glare at him before turning around to face the front of the room as class begins. I keep my eyes on the clock the entire time, just praying for the day to be over already. Finally, the bell rings, and I dash out of the classroom and to my locker. I shove my books into my bag and this time walk quickly as to avoid running into anyone towards the school entrance. I burst out the front door into the fresh afternoon air and run across the street until I am a safe distance from school- and Nate- and begin to slow my pace. Just as I hit the first crosswalk, a black SUV pulls up beside me and I carefully quicken my pace. What if it's a kidnapper? I put one foot in front of the other in panic but the SUV slows and the window rolls down in the passenger seat.

"You know, you don't have to run away from me!" Nate calls. I freeze up in my tracks and spin around, hissing.

"Just leave me alone!" I cry, turning around and running the other direction. The SUV follows me for a couple of blocks and just as I'm starting to get a cramp in my side from all the running the car stops and Nate climbs out, chasing after me. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm a pretty fast runner, but his legs are longer than mine. He catches up easily and grabs my arm.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, Mitchie," he says easily. I fold my arms over my chest and glare up at his sparkling brown eyes.

"How'd you remember my name? Did you write it on the back of your hand or something?" I spit, narrowing my eyes at him. He looks hurt by my comment.

"You know, just because I'm famous doesn't mean I'm the jerk faced rockstar you keep making me out to me. I'm human just like you. I have _feelings,"_ He says angrily, "And even though you hate everything in the fucking world doesn't give you a right to hate ME."

I didn't know what else to say. His speech had completely shocked me. I didn't think he cared that I was rude to him. I just figured he was used to it. Sighing, I ran a hand through my long brown hair and looked up at him. He met my gaze, and I tried not to focus on his facial features and more on the enormous lump at the top of his forehead from where we had ran into each other. He self consciously covered the bruise the back of his hand and looked down.

"It's not that, bad is it?" He asks. I shake my head, and he grimaces. "Shit. Now the pap are gonna make up some crazy rumor that I got in a fight with my brother or something."

I bite my lip, unable to respond to his comment. I didn't have any idea how to stop the paparazzi. But I did know how to get ride of a bruise. "Come with me," I command, grabbing his wrist. He looks confused.

"What? I thought you hated me," he mutters. I sigh.

"Look, even if I don't like you very much, that doesn't mean you deserve to get eaten alive by the press. So just do as I say." I lead him over to a bench and sit him down before unzipping my backpack and pulling out an uneaten banana I had leftover from lunch. I peel it and tear the banana out, tossing it over my shoulder. "Now, lean back," He tilts his head back.

"What are you doing?" He demands. I don't answer and press the banana peel over his bruise and hold it there for a good five minutes before growing impatient and just letting it sit there.

"If you keep it on there for a good half hour, the bruise should fade a little bit," I explain. He looks at me like I'm some psycho lunatic or something.

"Are you crazy? This won't work," He groans, but remains sitting anyway. I plop down next to him and we wait, and wait, and wait, until I look up at the sky and see the sun setting into the distance. Wow. Had we been sitting that long already? My dad was going to be pissed. I bit my lip and looked over at Nate, who was removing the banana peel from his head.

"Told ya," I smirk. He looks at me skeptically.

"It can't be gone. There's no way," He says. I rummage through my backpack and pull out a compact, holding it up so he can see the now faded bruise. "Wow. I'm impressed." He nods approvingly and stands up. "Thanks."

I stand up alongside him. "No problem. It's the least I could do. After all, I did dump my food on you and give you a headache all within the same hour."

He chuckles. "So…do you still hate me?"

I laugh. "You really had to ask?" I reply as the two of us walk back towards his car. I completely forgot it was even sitting there until now.

"So…you need a ride?" He offers as we reach the SUV. I shake my head.

"Nah, I'm okay. Thanks, though." I smile and he smiles back. It's _almost _enough to make my heart melt.

_Almost._

"So, uh…see you tomorrow." He stuffs his hands in his pockets awkwardely and looks at the ground. I laugh.

"Nervous?" I ask. His head jerks up and he shakes it furiously.

"What? No! Pfft. I'm not…nervous…." His face flushes and he bites his lip. I laugh again take one of his curls in my hand, covering what's left over of his bruise with it.

"There. Perfect." I grin and sling my backpack over my shoulder. He smiles.

"Bye, Mitchie." I watch as he climbs into the SUV and it rolls away from the curb, leaving me there smiling like an idiot all because I put a banana peel on Nate Grey's head. I press the back of my hand to my forehead. No temperature. I wonder what's wrong with me.

oOO

**:D**

**Was that enough friendship fluff between Nate & Mitchie to hold you over? I hope so =)**

**And the plan will begin soon. So don't think I'm straying from the plot or anything.**

**Please review!**


	5. Chapter 4: Nate

**Checkmate**

Chapter Four

_Nate_

"Dude, trust me. She's _different._"

It's now almost nine PM. I've spent the last hour trying to convince my brother, Shane, that Mitchie is not some stupid, crazy fan girl out for my fame. I'll repeat it again; she's _different._ She doesn't swoon every time I walk by, and I don't have to worry about her suddenly leaning over to sniff my hair or something when I'm with her. She's normal, unlike every other girl on the planet. But obviously, Shane doesn't seem to believe me.

"Oh yeah? They're all _different _at first. Remember Miley?" He chides. My hands curl into fists and I grit my teeth, heat rushing to my face as I lean into the phone.

"Shane, _shut up._" I hiss. He KNEW not to bring up Miley. That was the last thing I wanted to deal with right now.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'm just reminding you. Be careful, dude. I don't want you to end up like you did when she turned out to be something else entirely."

I nodded, understanding what he meant as I slowly relaxed from my tension. Shane was right; I just had to be careful.

"Thanks, man." I replied, leaning back against the couch. "Talk to ya later."

"Bye."

We hang up and I stare into space, thinking about Mitchie. She was nothing like Miley. Miley was girly, preppy, bubbly….Mitchie was….dark. Mysterious. Beautiful. I shake the thoughts out of my head and take the stairs two at a time to my oversized bedroom, throwing myself back onto my giant bed. I sink into the mattress and close my eyes, thinking about everything that has happened today. Why was Mitchie suddenly being so nice? I smile as I remember the feel of her hands against my skin. I wish those hands were somewhere else…

Hey, I'm a teenage guy. Cut me some slack.

oOo

I don't know what drove me to get to school ten minutes before everyone else, but perhaps it was the fact that I might possibly find Mitchie somewhere and get to talk to her before the crazy fan stalkers show up. I burst through the front doors and pause just inside the lobby, thinking. Where would Mitchie possibly be? And why would she be at school early? God, I'm such a moron. Of course no one is going to come to school _early._ Nice one, Nate. Way to use your brain.

Since I have some time to kill, I decide to wander around. I haven't really seen much of the school- after all, I've only been there what, two or three days? I pass the art room, where I can see paper flying off the shelves and pastels stacked to the ceiling; the library, where the books are so numerous I don't know if I'd ever find my way out of there; and then the music room. I stop just outside the door. A soft voice is coming from the inside. I peer around the corner and look in, only to see Mitchie sitting in front of a music stand, strumming a guitar softly. Her lips are moving and I can barely make out the words, but watching her enchants me. Her head is hung down, hair falling in front of her face as she watches her own fingers pluck at the guitar. A true musician- I can tell just by looking at her. Momentarily she stops strumming and reaches for the pencil on the music stand, scribbling down something before going back to her playing. This time I can make out the words.

_I don't want to be afraid  
I wanna wake up feeling  
Beautiful today and know that  
I'm okay,  
'Cause everyone's perfect in usual ways.  
So see  
I just wanna believe in me_

She hits a wrong chord and bites her lip, lifting her head for the first time. I duck back around the corner before she notices me. Once I hear the guitar strumming softly again, I look back inside. No she is getting into the song; bobbing her head, tapping her foot. I didn't even guess she played- it only makes me want to get to know her more.

The bell finally rings and I walk away from the classroom as students pour into the hallways. Time to go back to big-ass Nate.

oOo

The day passes in a blur, with girls coming up to me here and there to flirt, teachers staring at me with loving adoration, more guys asking me if I have any 'connections'- whatever that means. I'm ready to pass out from the over-attention as I walk into my final class of the day, my only class with her. Mitchie.

I take my seat behind her and instantly poke her in the back with my pencil. She turns around and glares at me.

"I thought we were friends?" She hisses. I just shrug my shoulders.

"Right. And friends show other friends what they spend their time writing in World History class," I mention, hoping she'll get the hint. She doesn't. Instead, she sticks her tongue out at me sourly before turning back to the board. I poke her again.

"What?!" Her voice is shrill, but still just above a whisper. I motion towards the notebook in front of her.

"Your lyrics. Can I see them?"

Her pursed lips relax and she turns back around, not looking at me. "Who said they're lyrics?"

My lips curl up into a smug smile as I fold my hands behind my head. "The voice I heard in the music room this morning."

Her shoulders tense up and even though her back is to me, I can tell I've struck a nerve.

"Oh, really? And how do you know that was me?"

She's weak. I can tell. "Well, unless you have an identical twin, I'm pretty sure it was you."

She sighs in defeat and shrinks down in her seat. "If you tell someone, I'll kill you."

"I know self defense."

"Go to hell."

oOo

The next morning I beat Mitchie to the music room. My guitar is already propped up in my lap as she walks in and looks up, meeting my gaze. Her face instantly falls and she sighs, setting her guitar case down and unlatching it.

"I kinda had a feeling you'd be here. You are not one to back off easily, as I've learned," she spat, pulling out her guitar. I smirk and look over at her.

"I've got to scare off the paparazzi somehow, right?" This earns a half hearted laugh from her as she pulls up a chair beside me, setting her music up on the stand in front of her.

"Do you write all your own stuff?" I ask. She nods hesitantly, fiddling with the tuners on her guitar.

"I don't really have anything better to do. Just work, school-" It seems like she wants to continue, but stops herself. "What about you? Does the legendary Connect 3 write their own stuff?"

I bite my lip and shake my head. "We used to. Back when we were still just Nate, Shane, and Jason. Not 'the legendary Connect 3.'"

She doesn't look at me as she replies, "You know, I actually liked your music. Well, back when you were still just Nate, Shane, and Jason," she smiles, meeting my eyes. Her smile is practically intoxicating- huge, wide, showing all of her teeth. I love it.

"Yeah, so did I," I answer. She giggles and blushes, looking down at her music.

"Do you still…write stuff?" She asks hesitantly. I shrug and glance out the window.

"Sometimes," I say quietly, "I didn't have much to write about." _Until now._

She glances at me quizzically before biting her lip, unsure of what to say.

"If you're going to play, just do it. I'm not gonna criticize your or anything," I roll my eyes and wave my hand, motioning for her to begin. She hesitates a second before turning a page of her music and starting to play.

_I'm standing in the center of the room  
I watch the boys follow girls perfume  
All is as it should be I assume  
Except for the distance between me and you_

Her eyes close halfway as she continues, as if I'm not even there.

_You're standing as a flower on the wall  
The room is still but we're about to fall  
And all the names that brought us here  
Simply fade away ..._

She smiles to herself as she reaches the chorus. I direct my attention to the chords she is playing, trying to mimick her movements.

_Who you are is fall is falling over me  
(Who you are is fall is falling over me)  
Who you are is everything I need  
(Who you are is everything I need)_

I'm hoping  
I'm waiting  
I'm praying you are the one  
I'm hoping  
I'm waiting  
I'm praying you are the one

I finally match the notes and start to play along, bit by bit. She opens her eyes and grins when she sees me trying to play along. We reach the chorus once again and my voice joins hers, almost perfectly in key together.

_Who you are is fall is falling over me  
(Who you are is fall is falling over me)  
Who you are is everything I need  
(Who you are is everything I need)_

I'm hoping  
I'm waiting  
I'm praying you are the one  
I'm hoping  
I'm waiting  
I'm praying you are the one

You are the one

"You catch on fast," She says quietly. I keep my voice low and smile over at her.

"That was amazing. You wrote it?" She nods and blushes again. Her cheeks are the cutest shade of pink. This thought makes ME blush and look away nervously as well. Suddenly the bell rings and saves me from the awkward moment.

"I better get to class. See you later," I smile at her one last time before packing up my things and walking out of the room. I can hear her continue to play behind me.

_I'm hoping_

_I'm waiting_

_I'm praying you are the one._

oOo

**:D Sorry for the long wait guys! I apologize for not updating in so long. It took me awhile to figure out what to write next, but finally got it and typed this up! So it's pretty apparent Nate likes Mitchie, right….? xD And her plan hasn't even been put into action yet! Wowie! :] Lol. So the songs in this chapter are "Believe in Me" and "Falling Over Me" by Demi Lovato. Both wonderful songs, I definitely recommend listening to them!**

**So can I get like, 4 or 5 reviews this chapter? I know this story isn't that popular but I think that's not too much to ask, is it? :] Thanks!**

**-Peyton**


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